


The Gods Must be Crazy

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Fic, Height Differences, LOVF, M/M, With A Twist, and mentions of rude dirty things, bagginshield, funny stuff, kind of a, there will probably be swearing at some point, yes this is an orginal character story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma has no idea how she landed in Middle Earth but, she does know if she ever wants to return home she must get Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins together. as in 'together' together. as in love and/or sex.<br/>With the help of a wizard and a company of dwarves, Emma Frye, a human, attempts to pair up a hobbit and dwarf prince. However, the course of true love never did run smooth and neither will this adventure if the Gods have anything to do with it.<br/>contains inordinate amounts of height differences, cultural shocks and misadventures, awkward courting and jabs at beards and some people's lack of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gods Must be Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, bear with me. Yes, this is an OC fanfic but, this about bagginshield. I hope that this will come off as well written and humorous. comments are more than appreciated.

It is impossible to understand the nature of magic, or the science of coincidence, despite how the two often work in tandem. Everyone knows that magic is cunning; and coincidence never appears in the same place twice. But, there are somethings magic or coincidence can not ignore. Or perhaps, it is because of the two that strange inexplicable occurrences happen. Perhaps it was the will of magic and the cunning of coincidence that created the story that you are about to read.  


Underneath the branches of a pine tree, among the Lone-Lands of Middle Earth, there lay a woman. Or a girl. Or female if you want to get technical. But, here she was, a woman and a peculiar one at that. With hair sharply cut at her shoulders and trouser made of canvas and floppy shoes that were strangely designed, everyone who would come to know her would agreed that she was indeed peculiar. And so she awoke under a pine tree around mid day, on the slope of a hill in the Lone-Lands. No one knows how she got there, not even she.  


This woman, Emma Frye, woke up with a start, breathing in deeply as she tried to clear her head. She looked around, utterly confused by her surroundings, which is to be expected in her situation. She blinked a few times, wondering whether or not she was still in a dream. Groaning, as if from a migraine, she fell back to the ground in an ungraceful manner. Her head throbbed with pain as she lay on the slope.  


“Whoa, head rush,” she muttered, lying on the ground, trying to gather her bearing. It was twilight and the sky was beginning to darken into a lovely black color. I would imagine she was thinking something along the lines of: “Where the hell am I? What the fuck is that? Why am I on the ground? Why are there massive eagles? Why am I hungry for turkey sandwiches?” after the throbbing in her skull receded, she stood up, shakily on her legs.  


“I feel like I am going to be sick,” Emma muttered to no one in particular, running a hand through her hair which was now full of pine needles, bits of wood and all sorts of little things one finds under pine trees. Among all these typical things, Emma found a strange piece of paper as well, folded up tightly and tangled in her hair.  
“What the hell?”  


This was simply another one of those magical coincidences that seemed to follow Emma. She pried it from her locks, unfolding it. It was a note, written on slightly old and singed paper. The printing was neat and clear, written in a dark ink.  


_To the finder of this note,  
_

_Salutations! You are obviously not in your home dimension. Due to extenuating circumstances your small human brain could never ever comprehend, you have been selected for a task. This task will affect this dimension's or, as you might know them, 'fandom's' canon. In order to return to your home dimension, you will have to complete a task. You will learn of your task at a later time. For now, please standby as you soon arrive at a rising action._  


_Sincerely,_  


_God_  


And underneath that, in a sloppy smudged writing was: _Just kidding. Like, I would tell you who I am. Talk to you soon! Good luck!_  


Now, Emma had no forewarning; She had merely awoken in a strange location with no memory of how she had arrived there. She could remember basic things like the alphabet, the last movie she saw and her room number but, Emma could simply not remember how she had managed to wake up in such a strange place. Now she was alone in an unusual wilderness with a vague note and her backpack, which had somehow managed to get caught in the branches of the tree she had been laying under. It fell with a crash beside, startling her. Emma shrieked at the sound, startling some ravens not far away; her surprise soon turned to relief. She was certainty glad to have something familiar with her. Instinctively, Emma pulled it onto her shoulders after checking it. It provided her with a faulty sense of security and with it, Emma felt a little bit more confident. Of course, that small amount of confidence was vanishing as quick as the sun's fading rays.  


“Okay, so trapped in the middle of nowhere, with a backpack full of my school stuff and pop tarts and a majorly obscure note. Hmm. Maybe, there was a port key involved. Or maybe I was kidnapped. Or maybe this is the Hunger Games!” Emma muttered to herself, climbing up towards the top of the ridge at the top of the hill. The way up was littered with large rocks that Emma kept quite pointlessly walking on; it made her feel adventurous.  


“Yeah, this could totally be an arena,” Emma said, surveying the picturesque landscape from one particularly flat stone. The slope of the hillside covered in soft shaggy grass and fallen tree branches that she was likely to trip over, if she had to run down the hill from whatever enemy. Thin but tall trees were scattered across the landscape, providing little shelter and protection.  


“Oh crap, I am so gonna die,” she muttered to the vast emptiness.  


“And now I am talking to myself.”  


“I often find that is how I get the best conversations,” said a voice.  


Emma turned around quickly, falling of the stone she had previously been standing on. On an outcrop of rocks, there stood a tall bearded man, dressed in worn gray robes; He looked...old. Very very very old. He also seemed vaguely familiar, as if Emma ought to have known him. The man peered down at her, as if waiting for her to speak.  


“Uh...Hi,” Emma greeted, wiping her dirty hands on her jeans. “This is going to sound really really stupid but, do you have any idea where I am?”  


“You are in the Lone-Lands, of course,” the man said amiably, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Emma sighed, looking around for anything familiar. She only saw rocks and trees and grass and it all looked very standard to her. Of course, if she had payed attention, Emma would have noticed small things that had never existed in her world, like the small sparse clusters of Elanor.  


“Of course, Lone-Lands. How could I forget?” Emma muttered to herself after receiving this tidbit of hopeless information.  


“Hmm? What did you say?” the old man asked again, his voice conversational and pleasant despite the setting sun which only served to make Emma more nervous.  


“Uh, nothing. Could you maybe help me?”  


“I am not in the habit of helping people I do not know,” he insisted, looking down at her. Emma shut her mouth, quite confused by this peculiar person. He seemed to have a pleasant disposition and he spoke very kindly to her, but, she still had no idea how to proceed after his very authoritative declaration. She settled for shifting her weight from foot to foot, looking as uncertain as a newborn fawn.  


“We ought to introduce ourselves, haven't we?” he hinted, trying to ease her discomfort and establish polite niceties.  


“Oh! I'm Emma Frye,” she answered, offering her hand. She quickly retracted her hand. There was several feet of distance between them and it was a futile effort. “And you are?”  


“Gandalf. The Gray. You may have heard of me.”  


“Gandalf?” Emma shouted. She had heard of him, in her world. It all started to come together. She looked up at him, her jaw opening as she struggled to find something to say. How was this possible? In her mind, she knew that this was inconceivable; Gandalf was the stuff of stories, not the very real man she was talking to. How could he possibly be real? But, he was. This man, this wizard matched every illustration, every rendition, she had ever seen. This was Gandalf. He was everything he had been described as, everything she had heard. So that meant she was in Middle Earth. The Middle Earth! Like most people born in America within the last two decades, she had seen Lord of The Rings; as a child, she had even begun to read the Hobbit. However a short attention span and library fines had ended that endeavor. While this was running through her head, she realized with dismay that she was still talking.  


“But, you are- and how- pointy hat- beard in belt- how do I Tolkien- gah!” She quickly clapped her hands over her mouth, at risk of embarrassing herself further. Gandalf came closer, a look of worry on his face as if Emma was about to faint or be sick.  


“Are you quite alright?”  


“Yeah! I'm alright! I'm great!” Emma beamed, a ridiculous grin plastered on her face. Okay, so maybe she was in an alternate dimension and she would probably miss that exam, but this was Gandalf! So cool. “I just- Help, I need it.”  


“And what sort of help do you require?”  


“I- um....I am lost. I just kind of woke up here. This is gonna sound ridiculous but, I think I am in the- the wrong world,” Emma stuttered, looking at the tall wizard. He peered down at her. Emma felt had a sudden urge to prove her story. “Look, at this piece of paper! Its like I was brought here for a reason but, I don't know what the reason is!”  


Emma was starting to become nervous. As wonderful as it is to meet a beloved character from a book, it isn't pleasant to be tossed around by the hands of fate. Emma considered herself to be a practical person and her situation was anything but practical. She could barely make sense of it and it was making her terribly anxious. How would she live? She would need money and a profession. Could she become a scribe? Or did Middle Earthians even speak English? Wait, she was speaking English and Gandalf understood so, they must have English. But, there was no England and probably no Anglo-Saxons. How did this stuff work?  


Meanwhile, Gandalf had plucked the note from her fingers, looking at it very carefully. Emma waited patiently as the wizard analyzed it.  


“I say there is only one thing for it,” Gandalf said, after careful deliberation. He folded up the note and gave it back to Emma  


“You've got some sort of magic incantation?”  


“I am sorry to disappoint you, Emma Frye but, it seems you must wait for the letter spoke of,” he said, turning to climb up the hill.  
Emma couldn't help but frown at that. She had a very tiring day of walking around campus and all she wanted was to get back to her room and not do schoolwork. If only this had happened yesterday.  


“So what do I do till then?” Emma inquired as she followed Gandalf up the hill. “Head off to the shire and find Baggins or something?”  


“How do you know of Bilbo?” Gandalf inquired, looking at her curiously. Emma couldn't help but stammer at his question. After all, how should one respond? It would hardly make sense to tell the wizard that Emma came from a world where he was merely a character in book and she was from that world. Unfortunately, Emma wasn't feeling terribly sensible today.  


“And you're in a book- In my world- And I know all about Hobbits and- arggh, the precious! And Sir Ian Mckellen- And alternate universe!?”  


“Hmm,” Gandalf murmured, looking down at her thoughtfully.  


“'Hmm' what?”  


“You either have a very arduous task before, or...”  


“Or?”  


“You're a fool. But, to be fair, the seemingly oddest accidents do usually serve a large purpose. Come along, Frye. We have a long way to travel.”  


“Accidents- what? Emma called after Gandalf who was swiftly moving across the hill. The daylight had all faded away, leaving a dark night sky. The night, however, was bright with stars and moonlight, it was brighter than any evening sky Emma had ever seen before. She took a second to gaze up at the night. There was no street lamps to detract from the light of the stars and the space around her felt huge. Shaking her head, she hurried to catch up to Gandalf.  


“Where are we going, Gandalf?”  


“We are traveling to join some friends of mine who, like you, have the intention of returning home,” Gandalf answered.  


“Oh, okay. Right.”


End file.
